


If he's fat then so am I

by Venrajade



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Arguing, Bickering, Domestic Disputes, Humor, M/M, Mycroft always wins, Sherlock still misses important social cues, Sibling Rivalry, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venrajade/pseuds/Venrajade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Mycroft are bickering when Sherlock reverts to his old standby of calling Mycroft fat, John defends the older brother and Sherlock's response leaves the consulting detective in the dog house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If he's fat then so am I

"Well maybe if you'd put down the pastries for fifteen minutes you and your pet Detective Inspector ("hey!" cried Lestrade) wouldn't have needed to interrupt my afternoon for such a _obvious_ solution." Sherlock ranted derisively to his brother who simply adopted a face the evoked the phrase "get on with it" so effectively that John was envious. It was a common sight to see the two Holmes' bickering like this, slinging barbs at one another until one party retreated. However, Mycroft wasn't rising to the bait today, making Sherlock's childish antics seem all the more apparent and frankly more annoying than usual. Normally John kept out of it, but he couldn't help himself as Mycroft failed to defend himself against the age-old tirade of John's partner.

            "You know Sherlock, I'm not as fit as I was when I was in Afghanistan. You constantly tell Mycroft he's fat even though he and I have about the same build even though he's taller. If he's fat then what does that make me?"

            Sherlock's response was immediate and frankly, not what John had expected. "Well John, considering your age and the fact that cases that cause us to literally run for our lives only occur every one and half months on average, on top of the fact that we've been spending more time in bed since we got together, it's no wonder you've gained seven pounds in the past three months."

            "F-- five pounds! I've only gained five pounds" John exclaimed, heat rushing to his face in embarrassment or possibly rage.

            "Hmm, the scale in the bathroom you bought is hideously out of calibration," the dark haired man replied matter-of-factly.

            "So you think I'm a 'enormous disgusting whale of a man who really needs to lose weight before the whole of Britain sinks into the ocean'?" John snipes, blue eyes narrowed dangerously and Sherlock freezes like a bit of prey just noticing a fearsome predator.

            "Don't be absurd, John! I think nothing of the sort." At the tone in Sherlock's voice Mycroft and Greg share an amused look. It's not often one is able to hear the world's cockiest detective be caught off-guard AND panic. "Why would you accuse me of that?"  
            "Because you've just agreed that I'm about the same weight as your brother and that is an EXACT quote you threw at him last month." It was really a gift of Watson's that he could express his inner rage by only altering his enunciation rather than raise his voice, Mycroft was rather impressed.

            "I didn't mean that for you! I only meant it for him!" Sherlock nearly shrilled in response, hands twitching in a way that indicated all he wanted to do was adopt his thinking pose to figure out what exactly went so horribly wrong in the last two minutes.

            "What's the difference?" John asked, both eyebrows raised and mouth pulled tight. "What exactly is the difference between me and him if we've got the same amount of pudge? Because I'm not seeing any and wondering how I haven't noticed before now how repulsive you find me." John knew very well that Sherlock found him very attractive, of course. But caught up in the semantics and his own recent insecurities of his middle-age gain meant that John was taking this argument very seriously very quickly, completely pulling the rug from underneath his opponent's feet.

            "John you know I find you unbearably gorgeous," Sherlock snapped. "I only say those things to Mycroft because he's a haughty git who has been on 57 diets just because he indulges too much!"

            "And maybe I'm sick of you tearing him down for it when I also enjoy 'indulgences'," John seethed before taking a deep breath. "I am so annoyed with you right now." With that, the former army doctor grabbed his coat from where it had been draped on the sofa and stormed toward the exit of 221b.

            "John? John where are you going?" Sherlock asked beseechingly, eyes wide with confusion.

            "Out!" Came the reply followed shortly by a slam of the main door to Baker Street.

"Well, you've cocked it up this time, Sherlock. I better go buy him a pint, he'll need it." Lestrade announced, giving Mycroft a brief squeeze on his wrist. "I'll meet you back at home?" Mycroft nodded and with that the Detective Inspector took chase of the army doctor who was surly heading to the pub.

            Silence descended on the flat, Sherlock staring somewhat shell-shocked at the exit of the living room until he noticed his brother grinning unreservedly.

            "What on earth are you smiling about?" Sherlock glared, his features contorted as his face scrunched up with annoyance.

            "It looks like your methods backfired this time, Sherlock." The British Government declared smugly, twirling his umbrella in a full circle. "Your name calling has gotten you into trouble with Dr. Watson which means you should probably prepare the sofa for the night because I hardly think John will be wanting to share a bed for.. ohh, I estimate about two days before you are able to think up a proper apology." The auburn haired man made his way slowly to the exit in a mockery of the dramatic hurried exit made by Sherlock's lover just minutes before. "Meanwhile I will be going home to my partner who, after your doctor spills every grievance about you and his weight for the next hour, will feel as though my self-esteem needs mending which will result in a very long and very satisfying session together." Mycroft finished and noted with satisfaction that Sherlock's face scrunched up even further, this time with disgust. It reminded him of a naked mole-rat.

            "What have I told you about never, ever telling me about you and Gallagher's sex life?"

            "His name is Gregory, and maybe I would take that into consideration when you cease to be so obtuse," Mycroft replied to the sulking man. Making his way to the stairs Mycroft turned once more to address Sherlock before leaving. "I win this round little brother, I will send you those case files to keep you occupied while Dr. Watson rejects your advances."

            Finally alone in the flat, Sherlock looked around a little bereft. The experiment he had been working on before Lestrade and Mycroft showed was not ruined due to timing. John's toast was left alone on the table, cold and with only one bite taken out of it reminding Sherlock sourly of the argument they had just had. Feeling a headache oncoming Sherlock flung himself on the sofa, covering his eyes with his forearm as he went over the past ten minutes in excruciating detail. He finally came to the conclusion that Mycroft was right, John wouldn't want to be intimate with him until he figured out what to say which also meant he wouldn't be sleeping much at all because sleeping alone was terrible. It was then that he realized how his normal temperance with people, namely Mycroft, really couldn't be used with John. Because it made John cross, and Sherlock hated it when John was truly cross.

 

"Shit," Sherlock breathed, wishing for the first time in his life that he didn't call his brother fat.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed, just a random idea I had involving the shade throwing the show does since ACD Mycroft IS supposed to be fat while Mark Gatiss... isn't. What'd'ya think?


End file.
